


Victory!

by DixieDale



Category: Clan O'Donnell - Fandom, Garrison's Gorillas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-08
Updated: 2018-09-08
Packaged: 2019-07-08 13:21:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15931277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DixieDale/pseuds/DixieDale
Summary: It's a new day, a new game, and Major Kingston prepares himself for a long-overdue victory over Garrison and his men.  How can he possibly lose considering the like-minded men arrayed at his side?  No, those cons were going down, and going down hard, and Garrison right along with them!





	Victory!

**Author's Note:**

> Just a tidbit about one of the lesser known battles that took place during the war. (Fluff)  
> Refers to events or characters from previous stories ('Glass Houses', 'Point of View', 'Doctor's Orders' and others)

Finally! The time had come when he could really have an impact, really make a difference! Oh, he'd done his best, to be sure. He'd kept as close an eye on the situation down in Brandonshire as he could manage, even enlisted a little help from a few other from time to time, Colonel Davies and others. Somehow, it just never worked out the way he'd planned. It seems every blasted time it looked like Garrison and his men were on the ropes, something happened and they came around, if not smelling like a rose, at least not headed back to prison like they belonged. Why, you even had to be careful what you said about them in the hallways or the commissary or other places anymore unless you were willing to put up with black looks and mutterings from people you'd never expect it from. Seems they'd managed to con a remarkable number of people. Well, that would come to an end now!

He frowned, thinking about all the setbacks he personally had seen. Of course, there had been SOME triumphs, like when he'd taken charge of Garrison's thugs while Garrison was stuck in a prolonged debriefing, personally escorted them back to their base under guard. Well, what was he expected to do? Let them rampage through London to their hearts' content til Garrison was ready to leave?? Like hell!! He still chuckled at the memory of Garrison's pickpocket, moaning, miserable and white-faced (well, green-faced, more like it) abandoned to the 'tender' care of the O'Donnell woman, 'the Dragon' as she was known to Special Forces; he'd have liked to have been a fly on the wall for the time the little thief had been forced to stay with her. Major Lionel Kingston had firsthand knowledge of what her idea of TLC might consist of! Female was a raging bitch when she wasn't being cold as ice! {"Probably only opened that bedroom door to toss in a stale sandwich once or twice a day! And that's if she was feeling mellow, and only because the doctor insisted on it! God knows what the Cockney bastard was in for if she was in one of her pissy moods! Bet he was wishing I HAD thrown him in the stockade!!!"}

But now, he'd found out by private sources that there was a special commission being set up to discuss certain more troublesome of the Special Forces and Special Ops teams, with Garrison's 'Gorillas' at the top of the list, a SECRET commission, and he'd managed, by a quiet word here and there, to get himself firmly ensconced on that roundtable. He preened slightly, knowing that not only would he be able to deliver some very pertinent judgements on Garrison and his cons, along with Ainsley's team and a couple of the others who had also failed to meet his exacting standards, but would also make some very good contacts, good for his military career, certainly, and possibly beyond. Well, how could it be otherwise? A high-ranking general, General George Bond, though he was not named on the official documents and appeared without a name tag for security reasons - along with a Colonel McClaine, along with Colonel Davies and Major Johns. Well, Kingston knew Colonel Davies had a history with that scurvy lot up at the Mansion, had expressed his views to Kingston pretty plainly back a few months ago, as had Major Johns. Surely Colonel McClaine would feel the same, and together they would make sure the general saw the truth about that lot! Yes, Lionel Kingston was about to see some long-overdue action on that crew! He rubbed his hands with glee!!

 

"A special commission?? You're kidding, right?? What, Warden, they dont got enough to do up there, they're gonna waste time sitting around having tea and crumpets and tut-tutting over us??" Casino snorted contemptuously, shaking his head.

"Not just us, a few of the other Special Forces, Special Ops teams, including Ainsley's; but, yeah, I imagine we'll get more than our share of the attention. Kingston is on the commission; worked pretty damned hard to get assigned there, from what I heard."

That little bit of news garnered a deep groan from everyone in the room; Kingston was hardly their favorite person, not a fan, surely. Garrison hesitated to give him the other names he'd heard, but figured they'd hear sooner or later.

"Along with Colonel Davies and Major Johns," he admitted.

Actor raised his brows, "the same Colonel Davies and Major Johns . . . ?"

Garrison nodded ruefully. "The same. I haven't heard who else will be sitting in yet."

They heard it before they saw it, the thunk of Chief's blade slamming into the opposite wall; well, that made HIS view pretty clear. While Garrison deplored the damage to the woodwork, he DID understand, even applaud the sentiment.

Goniff spoke up, complaining, "might as well just start packing now. With those three, don't 'ave a ruddy chance we don't!"

Actor hadn't said a thing, but the look on his face was exceedingly grim.

Garrison was surprised when a summons failed to arrive, calling him to London to appear before that 'commission'. He hesitated to say anything to anyone, not wanting to bring unwanted attention at a time when he and the crew were getting ready to leave for a big mission in Norway, but he was concerned. He didn't want to walk back into an ambush from their own side; he owed it to his men to try and prevent such an outcome.

The reaction from Major Kevin Richards had been decidedly odd when Garrison had cautiously approached him. "I'd not worry about it overly much, Lieutenant. Just tend to your mission, come home safe, all of you. I should think it'll all work out for the best," had seemed an amazing blaise response from the British officer who'd somehow become a staunch, if discreet supporter of the team. That knowing twinkle in Richards' eyes had been almost disturbing, but Garrison decided it was good advice. They had a mission and it would take every ounce of their talent and determination to pull it off; they couldn't afford to be distracted.

"And it's got that Colonel Davies and Major Johns and Major Kingston, and who knows who else! Could be real trouble," Goniff fretted.

Meghada just poured him another cup of tea, pushed the cinnamon rolls closer to his plate, the ones drizzed with extra sugar glaze, just like he liked them.

"I'd not worry too much about it, laddie. You just focus on getting home safe, you and the others. Things will work out," and her warm confident smile, if it didn't convince him, distracted him enough that he nodded, shrugged and polished off the remainder of the basket. After all, trouble, if it came, was in the future, and not much he could do about it anyway; the tea and hot cinnamon rolls and his 'Gaida, those were in the here-and-now.

 

The first meeting of the commission had laid out the outline for those to follow - a description of the five teams under review, the leaders, the team members, missions undertaken, results, complaints by and against - pretty much the usual. While the meetings were scheduled too far apart to suit Lionel Kingston, bi-weekly in fact, well, the general had other things on his plate, of course. A suggestion by Major Johns that the others continue on their own, with the general only joining them on occasion, was met with a frosty set-down and was hastily abandoned. Well, Kingston couldn't argue; his long-term plans didn't include getting influential generals pissed at him!

The second meeting had only just taken place when Garrison and his team returned to England. That was another thing Kingston wasn't too thrilled about; he'd heard talk about them running into trouble, showing up late for the exit, barely making it in time, possibly because they had their own agenda other than the mission they'd been assigned; there had been rumors of diamonds being involved. He had always suspected they were running their own game for their own gain, though whether with or without Garrison's knowledge he didn't know.

Still, if the rumors were right, that should influence the commission in the right direction; he'd reported that to the commission, (though perhaps with not as much emphasis on the 'rumor' part, more like it was fact, if not absolutely proven yet), and they'd brought in Garrison's Handler, Major Richards, for an explanation.

While Kingston sat there, eagerly awaiting news of their perfidy, something they could at last be brought to account for, he was subsequently stunned, for that stolid British officer had, with a great deal of satisfaction, related details of a mission that was, in his words, 'a resounding success on all levels; quite remarkable, in fact!'. It seems the team had not only accomplished the mission they'd been sent on, but had taken advantage of an unforeseen opportunity that had netted a double-agent working against the Allies, along with retrieving a cache of diamonds intended for Hitler's strongbox.

Somehow that news failed to make Lionel Kingston's day! From the looks on the faces of most of his fellow officers, he wasn't the only one who felt that way.

And that was how it proceeded. Regular, but widely-spaced meetings. False hopes raised, then dashed. Even when a mission went wrong, somehow there was little or no fall-out. Somehow, this process was not producing the results Kingston had anticipated, or at least not quickly enough to suit him. He'd taken his concerns to Major Davis, along with Colonel Davies and Colonel McClaine. {"McClaine, McClaine . . . Somehow that name seems familiar,"} he pondered, but then shrugged. He ran into dozen of people every day; a familiar name wouldn't be all that unusual. He thought the man might just be amenable to seeing things the right way, though only time would tell; so far he'd seemed cautiously neutral. As for the others, it seemed Major Johns was also annoyed with the pace of things, but seemed reluctant to annoy the general by mentioning it again; Bond had made his views quite clear that first time. In Kingston's meeting with Colonel Davies, he'd thought he'd found a firm compatriot; he knew Colonel Davies had had severe doubts about the team as well. Well, he thought that til the next meeting of the commission, held in General Bond's home, as had been the others for the sake of keeping things under wraps til they came to a definite conclusion. 

In the pre-meeting conversation, Kingston was sure Davies would join him in a push for speeding up the process, pushing for the obvious outcome (at least where Garrison and his men were concerned); his previous comments certainly seemed to point in that direction.

But after the break, suddenly Davis wouldn't even meet his eyes, failed to follow his lead during the conversation, failed to add any harsh words for ANY of the teams, not just Garrison's. It was like something had happened, but it hadn't; Kingston knew that for a fact. After all, Davis had never even left the room.

The only positive note had been when the General's niece, an extremely attractive if rather young woman, had joined them when refreshments were served. She'd even insisted on taking them on a tour of the Wardian cases on the far side of the room.

"Glass houses, you know. Ever so fragile, of course. Why, it wouldn't take much at all to shatter one. One must be so very careful with them. And of course, no stone throwing or all could be lost in the blink of an eye!" she'd said with a lady-like laugh.

Well, gardening wasn't anything Kingston was interested in, outside or inside, and it seemed a foolish thing, trying to maintain anything so easily subject to damage, but he supposed the lady didn't have much else to keep her busy other than serving as hostess for the General. Still . . .

He'd spared her a second glance, then a third. Young, well-connected, seemingly of a disposition that could be molded quite well by the right man. He would be needing a wife, the proper wife, to further his military career; Miss Constance might just be a likely candidate. Her smile indicated she rather admired him, as she well should, of course. He lifted his head proudly, and decided he'd ask her to the next dance at the Officer's Club. He couldn't imagine her refusing him; after all, just being on this commission proved he was going places.

 

Joyce McClaine, only daughter of Colonel Alfred J. McClaine, long-time member of the Friends side of the rather extensive Family and Friends list, sighed heavily, "I know this is all in a good cause, Constance, and I support the effort totally. But how long do you think it will be before they get the message and give up? Spending the time deflecting their nonsense instead of having our bi-weekly card game is quite worthwhile, of course, but wouldn't you think they'd be a little discouraged by now?"

Constance shook her head, "you'd think so. And it's not just the card game; Major Kingston has started asking me out; I wasn't sure whether I should go along and try to keep him off guard, perhaps steer him in a more positive direction, but Uncle George had a fit at the idea, and Daniel as well."

That came with an attractive blush, bringing a gentle laugh from Colonel McClaine's daughter. "Daniel, is it? So you are on a first name basis now with your uncle's Aide?" 

The blush intensified, "well, we seem to do quite well with each other, I really like him and Uncle George says Daniel is the equal of almost any man he's met, and better than most, especially Major Kingston! And I really couldn't see myself spending time with Major Kingston, not unless it was truly necessary! He seems a little, well, slimy, if you know what I mean."

Joyce snorted a lady-like little snort, "I know precisely what you mean! I've seen him in action around HQ, and I'd not want to be dancing or having dinner with the man either!" 

"Well, I think my uncle is about ready to 'deliver the results' of their commission to everyone involved, and in no uncertain terms," that accompanied by giggles from both women. "I imagine that will discourage those two trouble-makers from any foolishness for at least a little while. We're just lucky we heard that they were intending to seriously go after the teams in the first place, in time to do something about it."

Joyce raised her brows, "two? I would have thought three - Kingston, Johns and Davies."

"Oh, Davies is under control. I'm not sure why or how, but Meghada's suggestion that I give them all a tour of those delightful Wardian cases she had delivered, along with that rather specific little monologue, seemed to have a rather profound effect on him. Sometime, after the war, I'm going to have to ask her about that. The man turned positively white, and hardly said a word for the rest of the meeting!"

The two shared a congenial laugh, knowing Meghada as they did; whatever the story was, it would be interesting! 

Constance frowned slightly, looked a bit sheepish, "it does seem rather a shame, though, having them spend their time on such foolishness instead of on their jobs. I feel rather guilty about that," she admitted.

Joyce reassured her firmly. "Never the thing, Constance. Dad says he and your uncle made it quite clear; the 'secret commission' was to do its work strictly as an 'outside of work' endeavour, taking no more time than they would expend on personal matters, much as they would attend a dinner dance or enjoy a private hand of cards. They all had to agree to that, right at the beginning! No, we didn't impede the war effort one little bit; in fact, I rather think we forwarded it considerably! Surely we're better off with them back to doing their jobs rather that running around spying on the teams and creating mischief!"

 

Over a drink at the Officers' Club, a bewildered Major Johns was comminserating with the frustrated Major Lionel Kingston.

"Yes, not the outcome we were anticipating, that's for certain. I just don't know what went wrong! And it's going to be awhile before we can put any new pressure on; the general made that quite clear."

Kingston glowered, "and we didn't get the help or support from Colonel McClaine or Colonel Davies we were expecting either. I agree; I just don't know what went wrong! You'd think it would have been so obvious!"

 

Two weeks later, in the tidy parlor of General Bond's private residence, the four card players studied their first hand.

"Are you sure this is a fresh deck, Uncle George? I know just how devious you can be!", Constance teased.

"Now, you know it is, my dear. Dreadful, Alfred, when your own family can cast such aspersions on your character, don't you think?"

Colonel Alfred McClaine hurrumphed, "I must agree, George. Why, you'd think we weren't to be trusted now, would you, from their expressions. It's bad enough when it's your niece, but for my own daughter to doubt us . . .!" looking over at a smirking Joyce McClaine.

The four laughed, and returned their attention to their cards. Yes, that alternative game of wits had been highly productive, and in the very best of causes, but it WAS nice to get back to their regular bi-weekly card game. They'd really NOT relished the company of those other players, not one bit!

 

Garrison was getting tired of having to pull the answers out of Major Kevin Richards. He tried now for the totally blunt approach, since nothing else had seemed to work.

"Major, you're saying the special commission decided in our favor?"

Richards seemed to be more concerned with getting his cigar to draw properly than with answering the questions the American Lieutenant was asking him. Finally, he raised rather puzzled eyes and admitted, "well, that's an odd thing, Lieutenant Garrison. I'm not quite sure there ever WAS a special commission. Perhaps there were some questions being asked, but that's hardly that uncommon. Still, I found nothing official whatsoever. And no one whose name was mentioned in connection to the episode seems to want to talk about it. Indeed, some of them - Major Johns, Major Kingston and Colonel Davies in particular - seem absolutely skittish about the matter. No, I'd put it out of your mind, Lieutenant. Oh, don't discount them, of course; they're not your friends, by any means. But for now, well . . ." 

That rather enigmatic smile on the major's face aroused every last bit of suspicion Garrison had, and after working with his cons he had a goodly amount at his disposal. Suddenly Garrison had a thought, narrowed those green eyes and turned his head slowly to look at the redhead seated at the card table with Goniff, watching with amusement as he played one inappropriate card after another, taking time to glance up at her or at Casino each move, pure mischief showing in his face. Suddenly Garrison just had to ask, even though he wasn't sure it was the smart thing to do.

"And you, Meghada?" Garrison almost choked; the gold-brown eyes that turned to meet his purely SHONE with innocence.

"Aye, Craig?" as if she'd been oblivious to their conversation.

"Do YOU think we can disregard that 'special commission' as being a current threat?"

The corner of her lips twitched, but her voice was even more innocent than her eyes as she replied, "well, if Kevin thinks so, I'm sure that's the case."

{"Damn, Goniff couldn't have done that any better!"} Garrison thought with frustrated acknowledgement that he was being played.

Goniff was watching her carefully now, looking at her, then over at Richards and Garrison and back again.

"'Gaida, do I want to know . . . ".

She gurgled at him, "probably not, laddie, probably not."

The Englishman nodded in firm satisfaction, "thought not. Best leave it be, Lieutenant. Sounds like it's all under control."

Garrison seriously considered popping one or more of them on top of the head, but decided it wasn't very dignified for a standing officer. If nothing else, he was learning to pick his battles. He settled for pouring everyone a drink and changing the subject. It just seemed better that way.


End file.
